


Glitter Torn

by softlyforgotten



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco, The Like, The Young Veins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-25
Updated: 2010-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softlyforgotten/pseuds/softlyforgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I was so sad this week," Spencer said. "It didn't feel like Christmas at all."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glitter Torn

> **thisisryanross:** @ilovethelike I'm going Xmas shopping soon, you still want that biscuit scented perfume right?

"Oh my God," Brendon said, standing over Spencer with his hands on his hips. "This _has to stop_."

Spencer looked up, eyes widening. "What?"

Brendon glowered at him. "Don't _what_ me, Spencer James Smith," he said, and Spencer blinked. Dramatic flair or not, Brendon usually saved middle names for a special occasion. He sat up, slowly, and Brendon made a despairing sound and said, "Fuck it, I'm calling Ryan."

"What?" Spencer said again, with a little more enthusiasm this time. "No!"

"You're being _ridiculous_ ," Brendon said. "I can't stand any more of it, Spencer, you're leaving little trails of angst behind you everywhere you go. You're making the _dogs_ sad. It's my favourite time of year and I spent this morning wondering exactly what the point of life was. I'm going to call Ryan, or I'm going to call your _mom_ , and all this existential despair clogging up our house can end."

"You can't call my mom," Spencer said, climbing to his feet and plucking awkwardly at a loose thread from the t-shirt he slept in. "We made a deal."

"Yes!" Brendon said, vehemently. "The deal was it was the first Christmas without going back to family drama! And how we were going to have fun! And get drunk and play video games all day! And instead you've spent the past _week_ moping and not having showers and stuff, and now it's Christmas Eve and I just heard you humming along to Evanescence on the radio. I think you broke the deal first."

"I'm – sorry," Spencer said. "I didn't mean to mope. I don't know what's wrong. Sorry." He sighed, looking down, and Brendon threw his hands up into the air and lunged for Spencer's phone. "Wait, no!" Spencer said, but Brendon had already speed-dialled 3 and was dancing around the bedroom, just out of Spencer's reach.

"Ross, dude, you've got to fix your friend," Brendon said, and Spencer fell back on his bed with a groan. "I don't even know, he's been hiding in his room and listening to Morrissey, I'm going fucking insane." He tilted his head to the side, smiling crookedly, and Spencer rolled his eyes. "Okay, awesome," Brendon said. "Lunch? Alright, see you soon. Okay. You, too. Bye."

He hung up and Spencer looked at him, made a face. "Lunch?" he repeated.

"Christmas Eve party at Ryan's house," Brendon said, and pulled Spencer up bodily, wrinkling his nose. "But first you have to shower."

\---

Spencer wasn't really sure why he was in such a bad mood, to be honest. He usually loved Christmas, liked everything about the season, the decorations and the lights and the weather, the smell and the stupid sweaters and how cheerful everyone was, he liked the _songs_ , to Ryan's eternal dismay, and Christmas trees, and fake snow, because they never got lucky in Vegas, and certainly not since they'd moved to LA. Christmas was Spencer's favourite time of year as much as it was Brendon's – it had been one of their original bonding points – and it was really annoying him that he was too busy feeling sorry for himself to enjoy it properly.

He didn't think going to Ryan's was going to fix that, though. Ryan was going to have Alex Greenwald over, who gave Spencer a headache sometimes, and all his new, sophisticated friends who made Spencer feel small and inadequate. No matter how much Brendon seemed to have adapted to the new way things were, Spencer couldn't quite get used to how everything was all of a sudden.

There wasn't much use resisting, though. Brendon picked up the gifts he and Spencer had for Ryan waiting under their own tree, shoved Spencer's scarf and jacket at him, and then hustled him out of the door with impressive swiftness, grinning and talking a mile a minute, apparently cheerful now that they were leaving the house behind. Brendon was as good at bouncing back from being angry or upset as ever, Spencer supposed, sinking back into the passenger seat with a sigh, and Brendon didn't stop smiling even when he rolled his eyes at Spencer.

"This is going to be awesome," Brendon said.

"No, it's not," Spencer said, sinking lower in his chair and examining his fingers. "It's going to be awkward, and weird, and either we're going to get drunk and miserable or we're going to go home really early and be lame."

"Or we could have fun?" Brendon suggested, laughing. "C'mon, Spence, don't be such a downer. Ryan's Christmas parties are fun! It was good last year!"

"Last year was different," Spencer said, folding his arms. Last year they'd all congregated after Christmas lunch with various families to hang out at Spencer's place, and Jon had flown over late that night, and it had snowed very slightly over New Years.

Brendon shot him a narrow look. "Mope all you like," he said, carefully, "but don't be an asshole. Okay?"

"Fine," Spencer said.

"Really," Brendon said. "They're all really nice. They'd be your friends, too, if you stopped being such a douche. Be _nice_."

"I'll be nice!" Spencer said. "I'll be lovely, okay, I'll be the nicest person in the world to all of Ryan's amazing new friends—"

"That's being a douche," Brendon said, and thumped Spencer lightly in the arm.

Spencer sighed again and subsided, drumming his fingers against the windowpane. "What'd you get Ryan?" he asked, after a little while.

"Y'know, stuff," Brendon said, noncommittally. "Couple of books. You?"

"That new remastered version of The Beatles," Spencer said, staring out the window. "By Cirque du Soleil, you know. On vinyl."

"Oh, awesome," Brendon said, grinning. "He'll love that." He hesitated. "You get Jon's present sent off?"

"No," Spencer said, and Brendon fell silent, mouth twisting down when Spencer looked at him. The rest of the drive was quiet, just the radio faintly playing Faith Hill, Brendon humming along.

Finally, Brendon pulled into Ryan's drive. There were already quite a few cars there, and three bicycles propped up against the front porch, and there was tinsel wrapped haphazardly along the balustrade. Brendon was smiling again, big and bright, and he half-jumped out of the car, landing lightly on the cold ground.

"Come on," he said, and Spencer sighed and climbed out of the car, picking up the wrapped presents from by his feet.

Brendon led the way down the path to Ryan's door, feet crunching on the gravel, and Ryan opened it about two seconds after Brendon had knocked. Brendon said something that Spencer couldn't hear and Ryan leaned forward, hugging him almost carefully. He lowered his head, smiling small and uncertain against Brendon's shoulder, and Spencer breathed out and came further up the path, because this, at least, this was just them, this he could deal with.

"Hey," Ryan said, smiling at him, and Brendon stepped aside.

Spencer held out the presents awkwardly, and Brendon said, sternly, "Spencer."

" _Fine_ ," Spencer said. "Hi, Ryan, nice to see you, Merry Christmas," and Ryan laughed and hugged Spencer tight, grinning at him and crushing the wrapped gifts between them. Ryan was just lucky they hadn't gotten him clothes that could get crumpled, Spencer thought vengefully, but he smiled a little bit. It was nice to see Ryan, even if this still didn't feel like Christmas.

"Thanks," Ryan said, taking the presents. "I've got a tree, wait and see, it's awesome. Come on, there's hardly anyone else here yet."

"Where we go the party goes," Brendon said airily, and Spencer rolled his eyes. Ryan slanted a glance at him, mouth twitching, and Spencer almost laughed.

That was a little better than expected, at least, and Ryan seemed in a good mood, so it was easier being normal with him. Spencer had honestly thought that he was doing well in the whole band split thing, comparatively, anyway, but about a month ago Brendon and Ryan had ended the cold war for confusingly vague reasons. Brendon and Jon had always gotten on fine, so now it was just Spencer left being awkward with everyone. He thought about Jon's present sitting at home again. He'd meant to send it; had gotten as far as putting it in a parcel ready to drop down at the post office, but then he couldn't think what to write in the card or as a note or whatever, and Brendon had found out that Spencer had gotten Jon matching sweaters for himself and his cats and laughed so much at him that Spencer had been too embarrassed. It was a stupid present, anyway, and he and Jon had barely spoken. It was probably a good thing, not to send it.

Ryan led them through the doorway and to his tree, which was decorated a little insanely, with several slightly terrifying plastic figurines that were possibly intended to be angels glowering at Spencer. Spencer leaned back a little, and Brendon burst out laughing, but Ryan just looked proud.

"Me and Z decorated," he said. "The tinsel is symbolic, you see?" He started to explain but Brendon collapsed on the couch to laugh better, and Ryan gave up, folding his arms and looking sulky.

"Oh, fuck, don't say someone's mocking the tinsel again," someone else said, and Spencer looked up to see Z walk into the room. Brendon got quieter, smiling a little awkwardly, and Spencer was glad he wasn't alone in that, anyway. Z leaned on the back of the couch and said, "Hi," and she looked a little unsure herself, too, but Ryan was smiling, his real smile, the one he did when he was genuinely happy and feeling lucky to be happy like that, and Spencer hadn't gotten to make him smile like that in a while.

"Hi," he said, coming forward slightly because it seemed like something that might keep Ryan smiling, and he held out his hand before he flushed and regretted it. It was too much like the way his dad greeted people. Z just took his hand, though, leaned forward and kissed his cheek, which, okay, whatever, weird LA hipsters – but suddenly Spencer felt a whole lot better, and he didn't know why. He was just grinning for real, and he said, "Merry Christmas!" and actually felt like it, and Z looked confused but smiled back at him.

"You, too," she said, and then Brendon sat up properly on the couch to say hi, and Ryan was coming forward, too, and complaining about how no one appreciated the tinsel, and somewhere in the middle of all that, Spencer realised he hadn't let go of Z's hand. Probably, he thought distantly, he should be feeling embarrassed about that, but Z's hand was warm and comforting in his, and instead he wound his way around the couch subtly so he could stand next to her and squeeze it companionably. Z gave him a slightly startled look, but she didn't let go or anything, so it was all good, and Spencer was feeling cheerier than he had in _months_.

"Oh, Ryan," Z said, after a little while, "I think I burned the eggnog."

Brendon frowned. "I don't think you're supposed to cook eggnog," he said.

"Yeah," Z agreed. "That's why I burned it."

Ryan looked mournful. "We used all our eggs," he said, and Z nodded.

"It's okay," she said. "I called Michael, he's gonna pick some up on his way."

"Oh, good," Ryan said, brightening. Z still looked kind of disappointed.

"I was going to make it," she said ruefully. "It was going to be amazing. Tenn taught me."

"She can show you again when she gets back," Ryan said, and Z nodded. Ryan turned to Brendon slightly, explained, "Tennessee's in England for Christmas this year."

"It sucks," Z said. Spencer squeezed her hand again and Z smiled up at him. Spencer smiled back. Christmas, he thought, was maybe salvageable after all.

\---

Around three o'clock, which was apparently the time most of Ryan's friends got up, the house got really full, and for a little while Spencer felt a bit overwhelmed. Ryan was there a lot, though, usually hovering somewhere nearby with Brendon talking at him – they kept giggling at each other and saying half-sentences before they broke off into laughter – and seriously, Brendon had been talking about how much he hated Ryan a little while ago. It was totally unfair how quickly they'd managed to get over it and Spencer was stuck now as the sulky one. Such problems aside, though, Ryan being close made things a lot better, and where Ryan was, Z was.

Spencer was glad about this, as for some reason he couldn't really work out in his head, he liked Z an awful lot. She seemed a little strange around him, and Spencer thought that might have something to do with how he kept touching her elbow to get her attention or slinging an easy arm around her shoulders, which was fair enough. He should stop, he knew, but he felt strangely comfortable around Z (even though Brendon was giving him weird looks) and she made him feel better. Spencer didn't know. After a week of being utterly miserable, the bright, warm feeling in his chest was really appreciated.

Just after dinner arrived – what looked like several dozen bags of Indian takeout, wow – Ryan grabbed Spencer's wrist and dragged him down a corridor and into a quiet room, closing the door behind them. "Okay," he said, frowning. "What's going on?"

"What?" Spencer said, blinking. "Nothing's going on."

"Alright," Ryan said. "Only Z was all nervous and shit about meeting you, so I told her how normal and nice you were, and now you're all clingy and weird."

Spencer stared. "Why was Z nervous?" he asked.

Ryan shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "You're my best friend. And she is, too, and I guess she was just worried you wouldn't like her or something."

"Why wouldn't I like Z?" Spencer demanded. "Z's awesome!"

"Yeah, see, now you're being weird again," Ryan said. "Do you have a crush on her or something? Spence, I hate to tell you, but—"

"Ryan," Spencer said, appalled. "I don't have a crush on your girlfriend, come on."

"She's not my girlfriend," Ryan said, flapping a hand, and Spencer tilted his head to the side, because he hadn't known that, but Ryan shrugged and looked completely honest, so. "It's still a bad idea," Ryan continued, biting his lip. "It's just – she's kinda—"

"I don't have a crush on her," Spencer said. "Really. I just like her."

Ryan narrowed his eyes, staring at Spencer. "Why?" he said, and Spencer shrugged, helplessly.

"Dunno," he said. "She's just nice."

Ryan's mouth twitched. "I'd probably describe Z as a lot of things before nice," he said, and Spencer bristled a little.

"Well, she's nice to me," he said. He thought about her being a little twitchy around him and sighed, said, "Am I freaking her out? I'll stop if I'm freaking her out, just."

"No," Ryan said, and shrugged slightly. "Z's pretty cool. Just as long as this isn't your extremely subtle way of making a move."

Spencer held his hands up. "I'm not," he said, and Ryan nodded, and grinned suddenly.

"I'm glad you like her," he said. "C'mon, let's go back. I'm starving."

When they went back into the main room, Brendon was talking into his cell and Z was rolling her eyes at something Alex Greenwald was saying. Brendon looked up at Ryan and Spencer's approach and smiled, held out his cell and said, "It's Jon!" and Spencer slipped away from Ryan's side, feeling a little embarrassed but heading back over to Z anyway.

"Hi," he said, and Z looked up at him and grinned.

"Hey," she said. "Greenwald's trying to tell me that flavoured Pringles are better than original."

"Oh my God, shut up," Spencer said, and Z slung an arm around his neck, laughing.

Alex started to mount a defence, and Z leaned in closer to Spencer to argue, waving her free hand around to emphasise her point. Spencer appreciated it, as it meant he didn't have to listen to Ryan talking to Jon in the background, talking about Spencer and Brendon being there, how yes, he was having fun, yes, he still missed Jon, no, he hadn't gotten the package yet, but maybe the mail was slow, with all the blizzards? Spencer leaned in closer to Z. She was warm and smelled nice and made him feel better, and she petted his hair absently (Spencer realised that probably she'd just decided he was Ryan Ross's best friend for a reason, and felt a little smug, and a little lucky). It was a good Christmas Eve.

\---

At around nine o'clock, Spencer had lost Ryan _and_ Brendon _and_ Z, and he was all alone while Michael Runion drew closer and closer to him, gesturing. Michael Runion had creepy eyes, Spencer thought a little wildly, and hadn't he taken all of those sexy pictures of Z on his MySpace, and wasn't Z his cousin or something? Spencer wondered for one crazy moment if he could call Zack, and then his brain kicked in and he excused himself to go to the bathroom and dashed up the stairs to hide in Ryan's room—

Where Ryan, Z and Brendon all looked up at him guiltily, Ryan's tiny TV pulled forward to sit in front of them. "Oh my God," Spencer said. " _Traitors_ ," and Z started giggling behind her hand and moved over enough on the bed for him to squeeze in beside her. "You left me alone with your weird friends, Ryan," Spencer said, and Z thumped him lightly. "I didn't mean _you_ ," he said, and she smiled a little bit at that, ducking her hair.

"We couldn't find you," Brendon said, which probably meant that he'd done a scan of the room while Spencer was momentarily hidden behind the tree and then given up, and Spencer glared at him appropriately. He sat up slightly on his elbows to glare at Ryan, too, but Ryan just hid his face against Brendon's arm, so that was mostly ineffectual.

"What are we watching?" Spencer asked.

"Die Hard," Brendon said, gleefully, and Z nodded solemnly.

Ryan held up his cell. "We tried to get Jon, so he could watch it over the phone with us," he said, sadly, "but he's not answering."

"Even though it's Christmas," Brendon said, eyeing Spencer a little mischievously, "and we have a _tradition_."

"We have Z now," Spencer said, and Z cast another surprised (but cheerful! Spencer hoped) look at him, while Brendon looked a little disappointed.

"Dude," Brendon said. "Z, no offence, but – Z's not Jon, you can't just _replace_ someone."

"I know that," Spencer said. Brendon was making him grumpy again, damnit. He slumped down next to Z and said, "But this is cool. You're cool," he told Z, and Z laughed.

"Thank you," she said. "How much eggnog have you had?"

"A bit," Spencer admitted. He mostly felt warm and cheerful, except for when Brendon and Ryan brought up Jon. They should just stop doing that. He rested his head on his forearm and looked up at Z. "Also," he said. "You smell nice."

"I did that!" Ryan said, sounding very proud. "I bought the perfume for her! As a Christmas gift!"

Z rolled her eyes. "Ryan, I _picked it out for you_ ," she said. "I put it on hold. All you had to do was roll up to the shop during opening hours and say your name. I don't think you can take credit."

"I still got it," Ryan said. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have it, and you wouldn't be able to smell like biscuity goodness. So fuck you."

"Commercials are over, shut up!" Brendon said, turning the mute off the TV, and they all crowded together and watched Bruce Willis avoiding getting blown up for a couple of hours.

\---

When they finished, it was past midnight, and the party was still going on downstairs in full force. Brendon was half asleep, though, curled into Ryan's side, and Spencer still felt better than he had in ages, but not really better enough. Ryan and Z probably wanted to go downstairs to their friends, he thought, and he and Brendon could go home and have their Christmas at home tomorrow, open presents alone and then get drunk and play video games.

"We should probably head back," he said, and Brendon made a small, disagreeable sound and burrowed in closer to Ryan, while Ryan and Z looked up at Spencer with disturbingly similar wide, disappointed eyes. "Or, um, not," Spencer said, and Ryan smiled and looked down, pulling out his cell to tap out a message, that conversation apparently done with.

"What now?" Z said, and Brendon yawned and reached for the remote, flipping around the channels until he hit the beginning of _Love Actually_. "Oh, awesome," Z said, but she looked a little misty-eyed, and Spencer sympathised. _Love Actually_ was Jon's favourite Christmas movie, and now Hugh Grant was talking about Heathrow Airport and Spencer felt a little bit miserable again. He slumped closer to the bed, and Z sighed and leaned in close to him.

"I like Heathrow Airport, too," she said, and Spencer hummed agreement. Actually, he didn't really like any kind of airport, but tonight he felt sorry enough for himself to agree. Besides, Hugh Grant clearly liked Heathrow Airport, and Spencer had always sort of had a bit of a crush on Hugh Grant.

On the other side of the bed, Brendon and Ryan were giggling to each other again. Spencer had almost liked it better when they were ignoring each other; he confided this lowly to Z, who shot him an amused glance.

"That's because you weren't on the end of the Ryan Ross tantrums," she said, and Spencer had to agree. To everyone's surprise, Brendon getting upset was always much, much quieter than Ryan. More depressing, but still: quieter.

"Still," Spencer said, and Z sighed and burrowed her way under his arm.

"I love Heathrow Airport," she said forlornly, and Spencer nodded.

"You smell like Christmas," he said, suddenly realising what that perfume was like, and tried to ignore Ryan and Brendon dissolving into hysterics on the other side of the bed.

The thing was, when they were first touring, when Brendon and Ryan had both spent Christmas at Spencer's house, while Spencer's mom fussed and Brendon tried to pretend like he wasn't abjectly miserable, Brendon had at one point outlined his theory that Christmas movies were actually kind of magical. Ryan had been in the bad mood that always descended around this time of year and had ripped Brendon to shreds for it (Spencer was a little embarrassed to admit it, but it ranked up in the top five of Brendon and Ryan's really bad fights, which he didn't think did anything to give his band – his old band, fuck – any credibility). Brendon's theory, though, had been detailed and weirdly convincing, and when the door opened at a quarter past one on Christmas Day, it was all Spencer could think about.

Well, that and the fact that Jon Walker was standing in the doorway, smiling sheepishly at them.

"Jon!" Z said, sounding delighted, and she started to elbow Ryan awake while Spencer stared.

"Hi," Jon said, waving a little at them, and Ryan sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking about five years old.

"Huh?" he said, and Jon laughed quietly and Ryan untangled himself, crossing to give Jon a hug. "What?" he said, voice thick with sleep, and Jon tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth awkwardly.

"You guys sounded like you were having fun," Jon said. "And I just – missed you, and." He shrugged, not meeting anyone's eyes. Then he looked up and said, very soft, "Hi, Spence," and Spencer couldn't look away. Jon was wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweaters his mom made for him, and someone had tied tinsel around his wrist, like a bracelet. Spencer felt something settle, very quietly, in place.

"Hi," Spencer said, and Ryan stepped back to the bed, smiling slightly, rubbing his hands over his face.

"S'good you're here," Ryan said. He yawned. "We're at the end of _Love Actually_."

Jon smiled. "Awesome," he said. "Um. Can I—"

"Hang on," Ryan said, and padded back to the bed. "Brendon," he said, leaning over him, "Brendon, can you just – just move over a little bit, c'mon, move with me—"

"Ryan?" Brendon said, without opening his eyes, and Ryan bent his head and whispered something in Brendon's ear. Brendon made a grumpy sound but moved over a lot, following Ryan up onto the pillows, and then Z moved up to fit next to Ryan, and patted the space where she had been for Spencer, and a moment later Jon was sliding onto the space left for him. Spencer thought distantly that it was just lucky they were lying sideways on the bed – even Ryan's enormous bed wasn't wide enough to fit them properly.

"Hey," Jon said, and tapped his fingers against Spencer's wrist slightly. Spencer swallowed and turned to look at him. Onscreen, Colin Firth was trying to get to the airport, and this was one of Spencer's favourite parts, and Jon was going to make him _miss_ it. He couldn't quite bring himself to care.

"How did you get here?" he whispered, and Jon smiled, very slightly.

"Last minute flight," Jon said. "It was so fucking expensive."

"I bet," Spencer said, and Jon smiled at him. His eyes were very bright.

"I sent you a present," he said. "Did you get it?"

Spencer shook his head. "Not yet." He hesitated a moment and then said, "I've got one for you, but it's at home. I forgot to send it."

"That's okay," Jon said, still smiling. "I'm here now."

Spencer nodded a little jerkily, and then Z grabbed his other arm and said, "Oh, look, this is the best bit," and Spencer turned to watch for a little while. Jon was pressed up tight against his side, warm and just a little prickly from the wool of his sweater, and he smelled like Z only more, and like Jon, too. _I don't know how to have Christmas without you anymore,_ Spencer thought suddenly, and he reached without looking and Jon took his hand, squeezed it.

When the credits rolled, Jon said, "Oh, shit, Ryan, have you got _A Charlie Brown Christmas_? Ryan?"

Spencer looked: Ryan was sandwiched between Z and Brendon, Z with her back turned to him, face quiet and peaceful in sleep, Brendon with his face buried in the pillows, like usual. Ryan was, to Spencer's utter lack of surprise, also asleep, and Spencer looked back at Jon, smiling a little helplessly.

"Come on," Jon said, and got up off the bed, releasing Spencer's hand. Spencer stood up and followed him, heart beating very fast, and Jon led him down through the house, through the busy room of people talking and laughing and singing along to Bright Eyes' Christmas album, out into the cool night before. Spencer could hear the ocean, just out of reach.

"Hi," he said, and Jon smiled at him again. Spencer swallowed hard; he was nervous, but Jon had flown out from Chicago, and Spencer kind of thought he deserved some honesty. "I missed you," he said, and Jon drew in a breath.

"I thought you were mad at me," he said.

"A bit," Spencer admitted. "But I was being – stupid."

"And stubborn," Jon agreed, eyes dancing. He waited a moment, then said, "I was, too. I didn't want to call first. But."

"What?" Spencer said, and Jon turned slightly pink.

"Ryan said you were, like, in love with Z or something," he said. "And I got on a plane. I don't know." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, and Spencer stared at him, heart fluttering high in his throat.

"I only really talked to Z for the first time tonight," he said, and Jon shrugged. Spencer drew in a breath. "I was so sad this week," he said, not quite daring to look at Jon. "I was so – it didn't feel like Christmas at all. And then Brendon made me come here, and Z has this, um, this perfume. Like. Biscuit flavoured perfume."

Jon blinked. "Okay," he said.

"Yeah," Spencer said. "I don't know. It reminded me a bit of you."

For a moment they were both horribly quiet, in the still, frozen night, and then Jon started to smile. "I remind you," he said, "of Elizabeth Berg's perfume."

"No, it reminds me of you," Spencer said.

"This is not the most manly I've ever felt," Jon said, and Spencer smiled helplessly at him.

"You remind me of Christmas," he said, and Jon stepped forward slowly. His hands were hanging by his sides, but he reached forward a little, not enough to hold, just that their fingertips brushed, soft and warm, sending little sparks up Spencer's spine.

"I missed you, too," Jon said, and Spencer nodded, and then he reached out and curled his hand around Jon's elbow, and Jon rose up on his toes and kissed Spencer, mouth shockingly warm in the cold night. Spencer breathed out and tilted his head down, curling his arm around Jon's waist and tugging him in close, and Jon followed, clutching at Spencer's sleeves.

Inside the house, someone had opened a window and was wolf whistling at them, and Spencer flipped them off without opening his eyes, Jon huffing a soft laugh into his mouth. He moved back enough to whisper, "I'm really glad you came," and Jon nodded blindly before pulling him back in, licking into Spencer's mouth, making Spencer's stomach twist with sudden heat, tightening his grip on Jon.

Jon bit at Spencer's bottom lip and then soothed it with his tongue, sucking it lightly into Spencer's mouth, and Spencer wanted to pull Jon closer and get some of the goddamn layers off, wanted to shove Jon down on the nearest flat surface and grind against him, wanted to bite at Jon's neck and jawline until he felt like he had enough of a claim to make up for the past six months being stupid. They had an audience, though, and even, should that be escaped, a full house. Also, Spencer suspected, they had time. He eased back slightly, brushing his mouth across Jon's softly, and Jon broke away and smiled at him, a little out of breath.

"We should go inside," Spencer said, and Jon nodded, but neither of them moved. Someone somewhere was singing _O Holy Night_ , and Spencer didn't let go of Jon, tilting forward to clutch at him properly. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that there was no snow in LA, and no clouds, either, all the stars out.


End file.
